


Elbow Grease

by HecatesVessel



Category: Supernatural, Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Military, Bikers, Classic Cars, Emotional Baggage, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Gunshot Wounds, Harvelle's Roadhouse (Supernatural), Military, Military Backstory, Military Uniforms, Motorcycles, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Torture, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-05
Updated: 2019-10-05
Packaged: 2020-12-01 21:34:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20905787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HecatesVessel/pseuds/HecatesVessel
Summary: In a post military Supernatural AU: Reader, now medically retired, moves to where her chosen family resides. All is fun until the past catches up from both the military and civilian life the characters come from. Will they be able to get passed it or get stuck in the turmoil they thought stayed in the past? More importantly, will they realize they deserve the love they don't think they're worthy of?





	Elbow Grease

Looking into the mirror, pulling on her cocoa brown leather riding jacket, (y/n)’s smirk widens into a toothy grin. It wasn’t a common occurrence that she could surprise someone, or anyone for that matter, but today she was going to surprise the three people who meant the most to her in her years being Security Forces. She hadn’t told anyone where she was going after being medically discharged, but kept up with them anyways. As far as they knew she was on a trip to New Mexico, but in reality she’d moved to Lawrence, Kansas. It was tricky trying to not draw attention to herself since she had to have her bike and ride shipped to her, but she’d managed to pull it off.   
The ringing of her phone broke her train of thought, knowing what it was for she picked up to hear the gruff voice of her new boss telling her that everyone was where they needed to be. “Thanks, Bobby. I got your tab tonight. On my way,” excitement sounded in her tone ending in a giggle. “Just get yer ass down here. Seeing those three igits jump outta their boots is payment enough. We don’t get enough excitement around here and I need a good laugh.” Bobby may have seemed like a grumpy old man, but he did have a soft spot for those he cared about. “10-4, ETA ten minutes.” Quickly tapping the screen, she made her way out of her bedroom and out to the garage, her right step sounding hollow.   
Flipping on the light from the door that lead to the garage from her kitchen, she smirked at Clint, her mint green 1970 Harley Sportster, while grabbing her helmet that had Bluetooth for calls and music. Flitting around, she sent the garage door up. She walked Clint out and passed Jolene to the end of the driveway. Backtracking after parking Clint, she pats the 1968 cherry red Thunderbird before closing the metal door. For the first time in a while she was filled with anticipation without dreading what would come next. Losing the lower half of her right leg, getting medically retired, and Uncle Rufus passing 6 months ago had her lost and confused. For two years she had things go from bad to worse; besides moving here, she had a bright spot in her life that was going to trade school to get certified in automotive mechanics. But she couldn’t stay in Las Vegas anymore. Mom and Dad died and left her to Uncle Rufus who raised her and now her only blood family was gone. Moving here was a choice to put her closer to the people she'd chosen as her family. Another chime broke her attention, startling her as she realized that she had gotten on Clint and was a few minutes from The Roadhouse. I really need to get the hell outta my own head. Pushing the button on the side of the helmet, she answered the call.   
“You close cuz I’ll put on that song you wanted.” (Y/n) had asked Bobby to put on “Whole Lotta Love” by Led Zeppelin when she walked in. “Put it on in 2 minutes, pulling up in about a minute.” The call ended with a gruff confirmation as she rounded the corner and waited for a few cars to pass before she could get into the lot. Settling into a free spot she could hear the beginning strums of the song, the left corner of her mouth curving up more than the right for her signature lopsided smirk.   
Quickly cutting the engine, she limped slightly into the bar and removed her helmet. Stopping just inside the door, she stood at attention and smiled as she belted out, “ 31ST, TEN-HUT!!! WHY THE HELL ARE Y’ALL ON YOUR LAZY ASSES WHEN YOUR LT AIN'T GOT NO DRINK IN HER DAMNED HAND?!” Everyone was staring at her, but only Dean, Benny, and Jo were at attention, automatically reacting before realizing that A) they were no longer in the military and B) or under her command. Slowly all three of them screamed and ran over to her, enveloping her in a hug.   
“Fullmetal, what the hell are you doing here?” Dean, same as always.  
“Cher, ya coulda told me you were comin fer a visit.” Ahhh sweet Benny.  
“My sexy Lady! Why the hell did you tell me you were in New Mexico?! I’d have done myself up if you were gonna be here! Now all the eyes are gonna stay on you!” Jo’s compliment had (y/n) rolling her eyes, but she did have to agree she looked good tonight. Fawn colored hair wind blown and hanging loosely down to her waist, amber eyes framed in a smokey look, cocoa leather jacket still zipped up with matching knee high lace up boots, white crop top, and dark wash skinny jeans that made her ass look stellar.   
“Ok, ok, look I wanted to surprise y’all, which I obviously did, and I wasn’t taking a trip and this isn’t a visit…,” the last part had them confused. Continuing, “I moved here.” For the second time that night all three were floored. Benny was gonna say something, but an older woman behind the bar called out, “Joanna get your ass back here!” Still shocked, the three goobers pulled her to the bar, Jo rounding behind and looked to the woman. “Mom, this is (y/n). My fantastic friend and former Lt. from when I was at Aviano, Italy.”   
This caught ‘Mom’s attention. “Well, I’ll be. I’m Ellen Harvelle, owner and operator of The Roadhouse,” she smiled and came around the bar for a hug. (Y/n) stood up and went to move towards Ellen, however, her right foot caught Benny’s stool causing her to fall over with a squeak. “God damnit! You’d think I’d be used to this leg by now after two fucking years!” (Y/n) grunted as Ellen and Benny helped her up. Once standing tall again, Ellen wrapped her in a hug and smiled. “Everything’s on the house for you.” Giving her a smile in return, she let go and moved back to her seat, which happened to be in between Benny and Dean.   
“Leave it to you to make a lasting impression,” Dean had grumbled as he brought his beer to his lips, earning a steel ankle to his shin. His spit take had (y/n) and Benny howling in laughter and Jo pissed since she had to wipe the counter again. "I'm still older than you by 4 years, I can still tell ya what to do, Hot Shot," a wink punctuated her statement as Dean gave her that little pout she'd missed. There was an alternative reason she'd come here, a reason that she'd have to talk to Dean about at a later time and the thought of it caused her smirk to waver.   
It didn't go unnoticed, but went unmentioned by Dean; although he did put his arm around her and pulled her in close to his side. He'd leaned in close to her ear whispering, "When you're ready to talk, Fullmetal, I'll be here. You already know I'd follow you to Hell and back." The promise was ended with a kiss to her temple, Benny watching knowingly and Jo frowning slightly. This woman, their Lieutenant, had earned their trust on multiple occasions. Always made sure everyone ate when and as much as they could. Always found them when she knew something was getting to them. She was there for every deployment they went on and offered as much emotional support as she could.  
Their lack of jovial celebration caught Ellen's attention to which she decided to intervene. "(Y/N), you ever been behind a bar?" This threw (Y/N) off guard, but she nodded. "Well, let's see if we can 'Coyote Ugly' this place then. We ain't had a good show here in a bit," her snark reflected in her face while she grabbed two large handles of whiskey and flipped them around her hands. Jo was already in action, sliding a tray of upright shot glasses down the bar to her mom spinning, the bottles land bottoms up in Ellen's hands as the glasses fill up. (Y/N) just sat and watched before pushing away from Winchester and practically sprinted out to her bike.   
"Cher's gonna cause some trouble tonight…" Benny watched her through the window as she rummaged through her saddle bags for something. Once she'd found it she made her way back and shouted for Jo. "Honey, ya got a spare pair of nylons in yer bag like you used to?" Snorting a laugh, Jo nodded and tilted her head towards the kitchen. "Office couch in the back." Both boys raised their eyebrows, shocked, as (Y/N) disappeared into the kitchen. "Mom, we still got that karaoke set up?" Jo had been the only one to hear (Y/N) sing and she really wanted to top the night off with it. Especially since Dean had harboured a crush on the innocent looking ass kicker for as long as he'd known her and she'd knocked him on his ass for trying to get fresh with her. Thank you military for the "No fraternisation" regulations; standing in the way of probably the cutest couple Jo could think up. "Sure, Hun. It's in the supply closet. You go get that set up next to the jukebox and I'll get the front ready." Ellen was excited for this since her little bar had seemed to lose its appeal over the years. This night was about to start and neither of these boys were ready. In all honesty, Ellen was more than ready to watch the ratty kid turned disciplined war hero fall in love. He damned sure deserved it. She just needed to keep his stubborn father in his place before he scared the girl off. Well, she was ready to keep him away, but something told her that (Y/N) was more than damned fucking capable of putting John in his place if he stepped out of his lane.


End file.
